There is one flower I’ve known from time to time
which even grows in darkness (as I’ve learned).
It always falls outside my paradigm —
its size depending on how much I yearned.
It flourishes with trust and moonly light
and must be watered well with tears of joy.
The buds lie dormant in the dead of night
for only in the dawn they redeploy.
However, such a flower as this can wilt
or shrivel from neglect and fade away.
No bed of roses yet has drawn a quilt
of dovely down where I, in peace, can lay.
But now I’ve reached a meadow on my road
with flowers galore. Could this be my abode?

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The Naked Troubadour

Welcome to The Naked Troubadour! That’s me, Alan Morrison — a troubadour whose heart is open to the world for all to see — who writes from a place which is clear and free— who longs for a world in which every human being can be who they’re meant to be. Such a very short time we have here. Blink and it’s gone. It’s not important how long that we’re here but whether or not we live it to the full, according to the gifts we’ve been given.

On this blog-site, you will find many poems, sonnets, songs, articles and reflections which I’ve written — most of them in the last intense twenty years of my life. I hope you will find them as rewarding to read as I have found them to write. My whole heart and mind is here. Please don’t hesitate to contact me for any reason or none at all. Blessings to you, from The Naked Troubadour.